


until the day i die

by llwydion



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, M/M, sketchy medicine, the beginning is the end, this fandom needs more angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llwydion/pseuds/llwydion
Summary: He faints easily these days; the pain in his head is so overwhelming sometimes that he passes out from it. At night, sleep eludes him. He’s always been active, and spending most of his day in a bed, or on walks around the small garden, leaves him restless and fidgety.He tried going on a run once. They told him they found him collapsed in the garden among the roses. He never tried again.They didn’t tell him it was Otabek who found him, looking like a delicate puppet with its strings cut, fallen amongst a spray of pink and white petals.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song with the same name by Story of the Year.
> 
> This is un-betaed. Feel free to point out grammar/spelling/punctuation errors.
> 
> hahaha I'm just going to drop this here and run away to quietly sob in a corner

They bury him on a chilly November morning. Otabek leaves tiger lilies on his headstone.

* * *

 

He looks so still and peaceful, lying in his coffin filled with white lilies. The flowers make his face look pale and drawn, his skin white and porcelain-like in its fragility.

Otabek hates it. He misses the twin spots of color that would spring into his cheeks when he was angry and the sparks that would fly from his blue-green eyes. He misses the tongue lashings he used to get.

He wonders if he could shatter the illusion into tiny glass shards by smashing his fists into the heavy dark wood of the coffin, over and over, until Yuri springs back to life, eyes blazing.

He stands and walks out.

* * *

 

Inhale. Exhale.

“Are you still there, Beka?”

Otabek grips his hand harder.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m here, Yuri. I’ll always be here.”

“Dummy.”

“I love you. Don’t you ever forget that, Beka.”

Inhale.

“I love you too, Yuri.”

Yuri smiles.

Exhale.

As the heart monitor flatlines, he feels something inside of him wither as well. He doesn’t let go of Yuri’s hand until the nurses file in solemnly and pry it from him.

* * *

They sit and breathe together sometimes, in this pale yellow hospital room. It’s quiet except for the beeping of the heart monitor, constantly issuing a beeping noise, a reminder that he’s still alive, that his heart is still beating. Neither of them are very physically affectionate, after all.

Inhale, exhale.

“Hey, after I’m gone, what will you do?”

Otabek shrugs. “Keep skating, I guess. Maybe go to college, study science.”

Yuri nods once. Then, as if the motion tired him out, he closes his eyes again.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

* * *

 

Yuri suffers an attack the week Otabek is gone for Skate Canada. When he returns, it’s to the sight of Yuri, paler and thinner now, hooked up to a heart monitor.

“The doctors say it’s my heart, something about how the tumor’s affecting it too now.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when that happened.”

“Don’t be. Your program was beautiful. What’s its theme?”

Otabek pauses. “Fading away.”

Yuri averts his gaze, choosing instead to look out the window at the grey skies above.

* * *

“Get out, get out, get out! I don’t want your pity!”

Otabek rushes around the corner as Victor and Yuuri walk out of the room, closing the door behind them. Yuuri shrugs before patting Otabek on the shoulder and walking away, his hand gripped tightly in Victor's. Victor seems to shrink into himself a little as he walks down the hallway, the light from the windows throwing the lines on his face into deeper relief. He turns his face into Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri pats his head, unshed tears swimming behind his glasses.

Otabek knocks once on the door and pokes his head into the room.

Yuri is sitting on the bed, chest heaving after his violent tantrum.

“Oh, Beka, you’re here.”

He nods and sits down in the chair by the bedside.

“I hate Victor and Katsudon sometimes. I keep telling them that I don’t want pity, but they keep looking at me with those eyes, and it just pisses me off!”

He says nothing, instead taking Yuri’s hand and gently stroking each of his long, pale fingers, the smooth skin on the back, the callused palms.

Yuri subsides into silence. After a while, he removes his hands from Otabek’s larger ones. “Don’t miss me after, y’know.”

“I can’t.” How can he not, when Yuri Plisetsky came into his life like a hurricane and is leaving it just as suddenly? How could he not remember him?

“I mean it, Beka! You can’t keep loving a dead guy. You have your own life, and you have to go live it.”

“No.”

"Why?" Yuri shouts in frustration, his hands gripping his fine strands of hair. Otabek rises out of his chair in alarm, reaching out for those hands and gripping them tightly in his own again. They’re so slender and bony, so delicate. Yuri breaks out into tears.

* * *

He’s placed in a pale yellow room. It’s annoyingly cheery and pisses him off to no end.

On the plus side, Victor and Yuuri visit almost every day to bring him home-cooked food that tastes a thousand times better than the hospital food. Otabek comes by every day as well, not to bring food, but to sit with him for hours on end.

He faints easily these days; the pain in his head is so overwhelming sometimes that he passes out from it. At night, sleep eludes him. He’s always been active, and spending most of his day in a bed, or on walks around the small garden, leaves him restless and fidgety.

He tried going on a run once. They told him they found him collapsed in the garden among the roses. He never tried again.

They didn’t tell him it was Otabek who found him, looking like a delicate puppet with its strings cut, fallen amongst a spray of pink and white petals.

* * *

His last day on the ice involves all his favorite jumps and spins. The other Yuuri and Victor practice their dual skate on the side, and Otabek hovers on the edge of the rink. Mila and Georgi are on the side, keeping an eye on him as they practice their routines for the Grand Prix. Yakov and Lilia are there too, watching in the stands, as he performs his last warmups, his last combination spin, and his fourth and last quad flip, which he lands perfectly.

He collapses halfway through his short program, the pain in his head too blinding to handle. Warm hands and arms catch him as his skates skid along the ice, and he fades away to the sound of urgent shouting and a warm hand in his.

* * *

It’s in the car, on the way back from the doctor’s office, that things start setting in.

“I’m not going to get any better, am I?”

Victor purses his lips in a tight line and nods once. The other Yuuri looks sad and reaches over to lace his and Victor’s fingers together. His other hand reaches backwards, and Yuri catches it silently.

Otabek just looks at him, like he’s drinking in the sight of Yuri sitting there in the car, hair slightly disheveled, like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

Yuri’s not going to the Grand Prix. He’s not going to participate in any more competitions. He’ll never beat Victor. These few weeks will be his last on the ice.

Yuri cries that night. Otabek doesn’t say anything. He just tightens his arms around this beautiful fairy, as if hugging him tightly enough can prevent him from slipping away.

* * *

“There’s no way we can operate on this tumor. It’s too close to a vital part of the brain, and the chances of success are essentially zero.”

Yuri just nods numbly. The doctor looks pityingly at him, then turns his gaze to Victor.

“Let his family and loved ones know that they should prepare for the worst.”

Yuri makes a small noise, almost like a wounded cat.

“How much longer do I have?”

“It’s not definite, different patients have different –”

“Cut the crap and just tell me.”

The doctor sighs. “If you’re lucky? Three months.”

* * *

 

It’s on the third doctor’s visit that they begin to suspect something is wrong. This doctor, an old man in his fifties who reminds Yuri of Yakov, orders a series of tests.

When the test results come back, he refers Yuri to a neurologist. He gets a CT and MRI done.

* * *

The headaches don’t get any better.

* * *

 

“The doctor said that you should limit your physical exercise! What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Yakov roars from the edge of the rink.

Yuri turns from where he’s standing in the middle of the ice, chest heaving as he finishes another quad Salchow.

“I’m practicing, that’s what! No matter what, I’ll get better, and I have to be ready for then! The Grand Prix is only a few months away!”

Yakov furrows his brow in anger. “Get off the ice, Yuri!”

“No!”

“Don’t make me ban you from the rink!”

“No! I won’t get off the ice, Yakov, and you can’t make me!” he screams as he stomps towards the edge.

“It’s dangerous for your health! You can’t keep overworking yourself in this way, especially when you need to recover!”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with me!” Yuri looks at him with eyes that are blazing and filled with the tiniest bit of fear. “So don’t kick me off, Yakov, don’t. Please.”

Yakov is left speechless, and can only nod his acquiescence.

* * *

It began with headaches, mild at first but growing stronger with each passing week.

It gets to the point where Victor, Yuuri, and Mila have all suggested for him to see a doctor. Victor even offers to drive him.

Eventually, he agrees.

The doctor tells him that it’s probably fatigue and to go easy on the physical exercise. He recommends Yuri to take a break from skating for a few weeks.

Yuri decides to ignore that advice. The Grand Prix is only a few months away, and he needs to clinch the gold again if he ever wants to beat Victor. This might be his last chance to skate on the same ice as Victor, after all. Victor's mentioned retiring after this season so that he can live in martial bliss with the Katsudon.

* * *

Once, when he was small, Yuri visited his grandpa in the hospital.

“Aren’t you afraid of dying, Grandpa? Does it hurt? What’s this button?”

His grandpa chuckled, the wrinkles on his face lightening as he watched his grandson bounce around the hospital room, looking curiously at the apparatuses connected to the old man on the bed.

“No, Yura, it doesn’t hurt. That button is the nurse call button. I’m not afraid of dying, because I’ve been ill for a very, very long time.”

Yuri pauses in his explorations and peers curiously at him. “But isn’t it scary?”

“For me, it’s like I’m heading out on a long journey. It’s a little scary, yes, but it’s also exciting. Don’t forget, I’ll always be with you.”

When Yuri attends his grandfather’s funeral two days later, he remembers his grandfather’s last words.

* * *

_You were right, Grandpa_. Yuri thinks, as he watches the funeral procession leave. _It’s like going on a long journey, where I can watch over the ones I love for the rest of their lives._


End file.
